Love You Like Minimum Wage
by indeedydo
Summary: There is a part of Lily that wants to give James a chance. And then there's another part of her that knows she could never be with a guy who doesn't know what a coupon is. Lily and James: Boys Over Flowers style.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1:**

* * *

><p>It's always fun to watch Petunia run around the house on the last day of summer. It's actually the only high point of what usually is a very glum day. I sit on my bed and bite back a smile, watching Petunia hunch over her skirt, pressing down on each pleat. She has been ironing that skirt for the good part of an hour. Obsessing over every microscopic wrinkle and crease. Since there is no way our family can afford a new uniform for the both of us every year like most of our classmates, Petunia has her work cut out for her making her uniform look pristine every semester. She dry cleans, she lint rolls, she hangs it up every night, she treats it better than a lot of people treat their kids.<p>

"I would ask you to iron mine." I say, tugging my brush over my damp hair. "But I need it by tomorrow, not next month."

She looks up and I almost laugh at how studious she looks with her hunched back and her glasses perched on her nose; a lot more studious than anybody ironing clothes has any business looking. "Oh _Lily. _You say that as if I would iron your clothes anyway. Speaking of which…" she glances at my uniform, which is folded and sitting on my nightstand, "You might want to actually iron yours. Unless you want to look like a frumpy mes..._as usual." _The last bit is whispered but I hear it anyways.

"I do not look like a frumpy mess." I toss my hair over my shoulder. "I'm gorgeous, and all the guys want a piece of this welfare booty."

Petunia shudders, "Please do not refer to yourself as _welfare booty."_

I shrug. "Isn't that what we are. Little welfare kids who have _oh-so-graciously _been allowed into the school for the rich and famous."

Petunia glares at me and returns to her ironing. I know I've struck a nerve because if there's one thing Petunia hates beyond measure, it is our socio economic background, which is why she goes through such lengths to hide it. Everything from her perfectly laundered uniform (which could pass as _professionally _laundered) and her high-end Louis Vuitton bag (which required endless shifts at Farmer's Insurance's call center) are all strategic parts of her elaborate ruse of a Rich Girl.

Just because I think Petunia's farce is ridiculous doesn't mean I don't understand it. In fact, if I could start my high school career again, I'm not completely sure I wouldn't try the same thing. The school Petunia and I go to, Verrues de Porc Academy is basically the caviar of British schools. The students are either heirs to ridiculous estates or multi-million dollar companies, love children of distant royalty or retired rockstars, or the offspring of ambassadors and diplomats.

The tuition, unsurprisingly, is through the roof. But after some bad press, accusing the school of being "elitist" and "feudal", the school has started accepting a handful of scholarship student each year, somewhat begrudgingly. But these scholarship students, welfare booties, if you will, are on permanent academic probation; a small dip in your GPA is enough to get a letter of warning from the admissions office, and asides from that they are largely ignored by the other students.

The only way Petunia and I have been able to survive till now is through late night study sessions, elaborate ruses and sheer force of will. I place my comb on my side table and feel my stomach flip. Unlike Petunia, I wear my scholarship status on my sleeves, (quite literally if you're judging by the state of my "frumpy" uniform). It's Not because I'm overly proud of my socioeconomic bracket or am particularly righteous, but because I have never been too good at deception. And deception, as we all know, is the rich person's exercise of choice.

* * *

><p><em>"Your tan is lovely! I think I might vacation in Turkey next summer too."<em>

_"I know. He was sooo persistent. You'd think he'd have more class considering his dad's political status!"_

_"I was real estate shopping in Moscow, and found the cutest vintage castle."_

I lay my head down on the (mahogany) desk in front of me; the children of the 1% trading vacation stories over my head. The first period class has not even begun and I am already developing a headache from all the expensive perfume fumes I'm being forced to inhale.

"How was _your _summer, Lily?" I lift my head and smile warily at Mathilda. Mathilda's parents were a power celebrity couple in the 80s who have since divorced. Mathilda is kinda obsessed with the "grunge lifestyle" as she calls it. I tried to explain to her that there was nothing romantic about driving a minivan and working part-time jobs back in first year but I don't think she understood me.

"It was fine. The AC broke in the middle of July so I think I sweated off a lot of weight. What do you think?" I held up an arm and she squeezed my bicep thoughtfully.

"I think you did! Wow!" I laugh. Maybe I should be offended by Mathilda's interest/appropriation of the middle class, but she's too harmless. "Any way, did you hear about what happened to Sirius Black?"

Sonia, our other friend takes a seat in front of me and grins. "Day has barely begun and the gossip mill is already churning?"

Mathilda rolls her eyes good-naturedly, "Do you wanna know or not?"

Sonia makes an affirmative hand gesture, pulling her straight black hair to one side.

"_Well. _As you know, Sirius has always been on bad terms with his parents. This summer though, things came to a head and Sirius _left home! _His father cut him off so he's not going to inherit any shares from the company!"

"Doesn't he already own a few?" I ask.

"_Yes. _But he's not going to get anymore. Anyways, he's living with James." She ends her story and smiles, satisfied to have broken the news to us before anyone else could.

"Why is he staying with James when he could just buy himself an apartment?" Sonia muses.

"Or a castle." I add. "Maybe he and James are in an illicit relationship, and that's the real reason his father kicked him out." I wink at Sonia and she bursts out laughing.

Mathilda frowns. She can be a bit prudish when it comes to the Marauders, the super elite club of four that James and Sirius belong to. Mostly everyone at the academy is like that; the Marauders wield an unbelievable amount of power at this school. They don't even wear the damn uniforms.

**AN: So a couple of things.**

**1) I don't own Harry Potter! If I did, I wouldn't be bothering with school!**

**2) I am dumb and needed a fancy school name so I put Hog Warts into google translate and that's how I got the school's name. If you are French, I am so sorry. **

**3) I know nothing about the British school system. I will screw up eventually. **

**4) This is Lily and James, Boys Over Flowers style if you couldn't tell ! :D**

**5) Leave some feedback :D**


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2:

* * *

><p>"Tell me honestly," I ask, poking the skin under my eyes, "Do I look like a zombie?" Just a week into the school year and I am already running on three hours of sleep, gallons of caffeine and sheer force of will. This is what I get for taking all advanced classes.<p>

"Hmm…" Sonia stands next to me and looks at my reflection in the mirror before us. "Yeah, not gonna lie, you totally do." Seeing my expression sour she quickly adds, "but a pretty zombie. Like one that's only just crawled out of the grave. You could be Ms. Universe of the undead!"

"Thank you so much." I deadpan, and roll my cherry chap-stick over my lips in a desperate attempt to add some color to my otherwise gray face.

Just as I'm capping my chap-stick and resigning myself to yet another day of looking like a walking corpse, the heavy door of the bathroom swings open and a gaggle of girls, walking in a cloud of perfume, enter. I glance up and freeze when I make eye contact with Petunia in the mirror. She quickly turns away when she sees me and continues talking to one of her friends.

"And then Tuney? What happened next?" Her friend asks, clapping her hands together like a seal. "What did he say?"

"Oh, you know," Petunia fluffs her 1950s-flight attendant curls and glances at me quickly before continuing her lie.. "He was all, oh please, marry me. And I was like, I'm eighteen. Oh my gosh."

Petunia (allegedly) spent the summer holidays vacationing in Dubai. While there she (allegedly) met a dashing young prince, who (allegedly) showered her with gifts and begged her to marry him. Of course, in the story, Petunia feels so awkward with the young prince's attention that she ditches Dubai and leaves all the gifts there as well. I had watched her sit on her ancient laptop, reading Wikipedia pages on the city so she wouldn't be hit with a question she couldn't answer. She had even had to give herself a spray tan. Maintaining a lie is a lot of hard word.

"Petunia." I am startled when I hear Sonia call out to my sister from next to me. "Are you going to history after this? We can walk together." This year, by some stroke of misfortune, Petunia and I are stuck in the same history class. She was livid when she found out, worried that the ruse she had spent so much effort to uphold would be unraveled if we were forced to breathe the same air while in school.

The thing is Petunia doesn't just renounce her background while she is at school, she renounces me as well. I remember feeling confused and a little bit hurt when, after I got my acceptance letter the summer before first year, Petunia had frowned and told me I was never ever to talk to her in school, or even hint at the fact that we were in anyway related. And once we got to school, even though we both have the same last name and unfortunate mess of freckles, no one has ever suspected us of sharing DNA.

Petunia freezes and lowers her hand from her hair. Before she can start rambling some half-assed excuse I pipe in, "Oh, actually, I have to jet to the advising office really quickly. I'll see you later." I smile at Sonia and walk past Petunia, pushing my way out of the bathroom.

* * *

><p>As much as I hate school, I hate going home even more. Not that I hate being at home. I just hate the fact that before I can kick off my shoes, and fling my bag away I have to take a train and two buses. I stare longingly at the long line of chauffeurs waiting to pick up my classmates; I usually try my best not to get jealous of my classmates but I can't help myself right now. My bookbag is heavy, my feet are sore and my head is pounding.<p>

I rub my shoulders where the straps of my Jansport bookbag dig into them. I am walking out of the school; the weather has started getting chilly and I wish I had brought an extra sweater. My first bus stop is a couple of blocks away, and I am bracing myself for the uncomfortable walk when I see something that makes me stop in my tracks.

Severus Snape.

My eyes widen, and I feel my heart-rate speed up. Sev, my elusive ex-best friend who has been off the radar since ditching my sorry ass last June, stands a few meters before me, leaning against the wrought-iron gate of the school. He doesn't seem to notice me as he raises his hand and takes a deep drag from a cigarette.

"Severus!" I call out, waving at him as if he didn't tell me he didn't want to be seen with me just a few months prior. Now his eyes widen, and I can tell that I've caught him by surprise when he starts coughing.

"L-Lily." He looks around frantically, and I can't tell if he's making sure no one has seen him speaking to me or if he's looking for an escape route.

"Severus Snape." I walk closer to him and offer him a tentative smile. Maybe if I pretend nothing has changed he will too. "How...how are you? I stopped by your house a couple of times but no one wa-"

"I already told you." He seems to have gathered up his bearings and has fixed me with a cold look. "I'm not interested in being friends with...you." I flinch at the way he refers to me. As if I'm a piece of scum stuck to the bottom of shoe. No indifferent passerby would be able to guess that we have known eachother since we were kids, and have been best friend for ages.

"I remember." I silently beg the powers that be to keep my eyes dry and my voice from shaking. I didn't need to cry in front of him again. "But I just want to know why. What happened?" I reach out and grab his cigarette-free hand, pushing away the little voice in my head telling me how pathetic I look.

He pauses and glances at my hand clasping his. "Leave me alone, Evans. I don't have time to play with you anymore." He snatches his hand away, tosses down his cigarette, and without sparing me another glance, stalks off.

I blink and wipe at my face, to make sure there are no tears. I hate leaving things unfinished. And as I watch Severus walk away, I know I can't let our friendship, spanning years and phases of our lives, end this way. I have been rewinding that last conversation I had had with Severus for months now, wondering what I had done to make him drop me so suddenly. If he doesn't want to be my friend, that's his prerogative. But he could at least tell me why.

Severus has already turned the corner. I feel the rage pulsing through my veins. Stupid Severus. And because I have no self respect, I decide to go after him.

With the drive of an Olympic runner I bound after Severus as fast as I can. My heavy bookbag bounces uncomfortably against my back, but I ignore it and press on. Severus walks pretty damn fast, but its only a few moments of awkward running before I see him again. I almost call out to him again, this time with a few more expletives, but stop when I realize he is no longer alone. Severus stands like a cornered animal between four guys, and the front of the Moong-Barpire Ice Cream Shoppe.

"Snivellus. What's the deal? You just sullied James's good shirt." A boy with a dark mop of curly hair, clucks his tongue at Severus. His one hand holds a bright pink smoothie, and he uses the other to wiggle his finger tauntingly at Sev. Severus flinches and the boy laughs. I blink when I realize the guy is Sirius Black; the same Sirius Black my friends and I had been gossiping about the other day. And if that was Sirius...I gasp when I realize who the other boys are.

The Marauders.

There was Peter Pettigrew, big and with his signature rat ponytail. Remus, lanky and sandy-haired, standing a bit to the side and in the center is James Potter. Potter looks livid, and my eyes widen when I spot what is probably the source of his anger: a big blotch of ice cream splayed on the front of his shirt. An ice cream cone lies unceremoniously at his feet. It appears in his rush to get away from me Severus ran right into the lion's mouth

"Leave me alone, Black." The street is teeming with Verrues de Porc students, as the Moong-Barpire Ice Cream Shoppe is especially popular with the student body. And a few students pause in their ice cream licking to gawk when they notice the tense situation. Severus seems to take note of the students' presence and tries to leave.

"Aw, where you going Snivellus?" The large Peter Pettigrew asks, holding Severus back with a meaty paw.

"Guys." Remus Lupin says. "Lets just go. Weren't we going to go to your place James?"

"Yes, you're right." James says, and I am momentarily surprised by his maturity. "But how can I go like this?" He gestures to his shirt and all illusions of maturity disappear.

Severus breathes in deeply. "Look, Potter. I'm sorry about your stupid shirt. I'll pay for the dry cleaning. Now I'll be on my wa-"

"Not so fast." Potter holds up a hand to stop Severus. "Snivellus, what do you have against me? Do you want me to look bad, is that it?" I step closer into the crowd that has formed around the five men, a few have even broke out their smartphones, filming the exchange.

Snape glances at the crowd frantically and, trying to keep his cool, snorts and says, "I think you do a good enough job of that on your o-" He can't even finish his comeback because Pettigrew decides to take that moment to push him backwards. He lands ungracefully on his butt.

Potter steps forward and places his foot on Severus's chest, keeping him from getting up. "What were you saying Snivellus?" Snivellus grunts, and tries unsuccessfully to stand back up. He looks toward the crowd and for a split second, our eyes meet. He winces when he sees me and turns away.

Even though I am mad at Severus, seeing him getting bullied makes my temper flare. I have always had a weird maternal protectiveness over him, ever since we were young and the other kids would pick on him on the playground. I am about to march over there when Potter removes his foot from Sev's chest and instead places it over Snape's shoulder length black hair, which is splayed on the sidewalk. He toes his hair against the sidewalk and makes a face. "Snivellus! When's the last time you washed your hair? Or is the greasy look popular with the bottom-feeders these days?" The crowd teeters at his oh-so-funny joke and I can feel my blood pressure rising.

And just when I begin to think Potter is done with his tirade, he grabs the fruit drink out of Black's hand and begins pouring it over Severus's head. This looks like a scene out of a bad movie. People are laughing and filming, Potter is on a power trip and poor poor Severus is laying flat on his back, with pink, frothy fruit juice all over his face, unable to move because Potter is pinning him down by his hair. I lose sight of the possible consequences of going against a Marauder and before I know it, I have elbowed my way to the front of the crowd and am shouting, "Stop it already!"

I have never seen a group of rowdy teenagers become so silent, so quickly before. Potter pauses, the plastic cup still poised over Sev's face.

"I'm sorry." Potter cocks his head to the side, "What?" He doesn't seem to be able to understand what I'm saying. Adrenaline pumps through my veins and I march over to him.

"Just stop it already!" I push Potter back and stand between him and Sev. I am heaving with rage, and my face is probably as red as my hair at this point.

"Aw, Snivellus, you got yourself a girlfriend?" Black croons and I shoot him a look which shuts him up, surprisingly.

Potter is staring at me, and I can tell I've taken him aback. "What…" He looks at the crowd and seems to remember he was in the middle of something, "Get out of my way."

I ignore him and turn to Severus. He is sitting up at this point and I crouch down, placing a hand on his shoulder. I pull a napkin out of my pocket and try to hand it to him when he says, staring straight ahead, "Get your hand off of me."

"What? Sev, come on," My voice is shaking. Is he really going to do this now? I try to wipe a blob of goop off his face but he bats my hand away.

"I said" He finally turns to me,." Get your dirty, destitute hand off of me." He bites out and jostles my hand off of his shoulder. He gets up, juice dripping off his face and shoots me and the Marauders one last death stare before stalking off.

I blink back tears and slowly get up. The whole crowd is silent, and I realize some are still filming.

"See?" Potter laughs from behind me. "He's just a dirty bastar-" And with that, I spin around and punch him in the nose.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Whoaaa that took a while. In my defense, college is terrible. Don't do it kids. <strong>

**I'm just kidding. Do it. It's still terrible though. Also, that bullying scene was really weird to right. The first time I wrote it my sister told me I made everyone sound too polite? I'm not sure how much better this one is, but hopefully it made you cringe.**

**If you couldn't tell I've changed things around. I won't be following BOF completely because...it just wouldn't work. :D **

**Thanks for reading! Leave a review ! 3**


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3:**

* * *

><p>I normally enjoy living in the twenty-first century. Indoor plumbing and internet streaming services are brilliant, and I could never live without them. Social media, however, is one aspect of modern day I would rather live without.<p>

"Why are so many people watching this?" I groan from my perch on an overturned milk crate. Someone has uploaded a shaky recording of the entire, nefarious exchange between James Potter, Severus and me onto Youtube, and it has racked quite a number of views. I am practically internet famous.

I scroll through the length of comments on the video and wince repeatedly. The people in the comments section are ruthless. You'd think the children of such wealthy people would have better things to do than write two paragraph long essays on how monstrous I am.

"What are people watching?" Jackie, my friend and coworker asks, squatting on the floor so she can see the phone screen. (The phone I am using is hers, since mine is a stupid flip phone with no internet access.)

I scroll back up to the video and press play for her, watching her reaction as she watches. Surprisingly, she laughs. "Oh my _god! _Lily, I didn't know you were such a badass!" She giggles and grabs the phone from me. "This is awesome."

"No it's not! Stupid smartphone generation. Why does everything have to go on the internet?" I groan, grabbing my hair in my hands in frustration.

"Well I just posted it to my Facebook." Jackie says with a grin.

"Great. Thanks, you're helping so much." I say sarcastically.

Jackie laughs, pockets the phone and stands up. "Who is that guy anyway? He seemed like a real asshat."

"It was James Potter."

Jackie's eyes widen. "No way. James Potter? From that Potter Group?" I make a face, I hate remembering how powerful the guy is. "Lily...what if his nose is insured?"

"Oh god, Jackie! What if? I could never pay it off. I'm gonna die." I wail. I already feel bad enough for cuffing the guy, but what if he takes me to court? What if I end up in jail? I would not do well in jail.

Jackie clucks her tongue. "Stop stressing! And-" She's cut off by the bell on the door jingling, signaling a customer has entered the bakery.

I stand up from my seat on the milk crate, tuck my hair behind my ears and smooth out my apron. Slapping on a smile I step up the counter, "Hello! Welcome to Canter's Bakery, how can I help you?" I recite cheerily, leaving no trace of my inner turmoil on my face.

"You were right." One of the girl whispers to the guy next to her. "It _is _her."

The guy peers at my face and I blink. "Damn, she doesn't _look_ like a hoodlum…"

"Can I get you anything?" I say through gritted teeth. My fists clenched behind the counter. I really need to work on keeping my temper in check, wouldn't want another _Potter-situation _on my hands.

"No, we're good." The girl turns and struts out of the store. The guy who is still standing there pulls a smartphone out of his pocket, and before I know what is happening, he has snapped a photo of me.

I am just about to leap over the counter and throttle him (I _really_ need to work on my violent impulses), but he hightails it out of the bakery before I even have a chance to shout something.

"Seems like you have a fan club." Jackie says from behind me. "I wonder why they came all the way here without buying anything. Seems kinda stupid." She shrugs, "Well, if they're from your school they probably have gas money to burn" I know she is trying to make light of the situation for my sake but inside my panic has doubled. This bakery is pretty out of the way of any of the big, high-class neighborhoods where most of Verrues de Porc student population lives. And for them to go so far out of their way just to get a glimpse of me…

I think I'm going to vomit.

* * *

><p>Why did the gene pool curse me with red hair? First, I am the butt of every "soulless ginger" joke and secondly, and more importantly, my fluorescent hair makes it impossible for me to keep a low profile.<p>

Whispers follow me as I go down the hall. People scoot out of the way as I walk past, lest I hit them with a stray fist. I seem to instill both fear and disgust in every person I pass on the way to my locker.

When I reach my locker, I quickly put in the combination, eager to grab my books and skedaddle out of there. But when I open the door, I realize something is wrong. I can feel my heart rate increasing as I pull out book after book.

_Everything is wet. _

My textbooks are all wet. My notes. Even the damn newspaper clippings I had hung up on the inside of the locker door are wet. The students loitering around behind me are silent and I know they are waiting to see how I will react. I blink back the angry tears that are welling up behind my eyes. There is no way this was an accident.

I take a few deep breaths to steady myself and start collecting my soggy textbooks in my arms before turning around. I try to keep my face stoic and emotionless as I push the locker door shut with my shoulder. Who ever did this is not going to get a reaction out of me.

"Who do you even think you are?" A trio of girls materializes in front of me and I inwardly roll my eyes. This is exactly what I need right now.

"Well. Are you deaf as well as mannerless?" One in the middle snaps, tapping her Louboutins on the marble floor.

"What do you want?" I ask, resignedly. These stupid textbooks are heavy, my shirt is getting damp from holding them and I don't have the strength to be polite.

"We want to know how a _scholarship student _like you is crazy enough to punch James Potter," The girl barks. "His face is worth more than your entire life! What would you have done if you had broken his nose?!"

"Couldn't you just refer him to your plastic surgeon?." I hear myself saying. I could smack myself if I wasn't holding so many books.

"You little-!" Her nostrils flare and I have no time to react before she reaches out and pushes me. On the way down to the floor, I amusedly realize how hilariously similar this situation is to the one Severus found himself in just a few days ago, I even land on my butt! Now all I need is some fruit juice to the face for the parallels to be complete.

The three girls are leering down at me, like a trio of satanic barbies. "There's no room in this academy for scum like you." One of them throws down at me before they simultaneously turn on their heels and march away.

I shake my head at their retreating figures and, after straightening out my skirt, start collecting the books that have flown out of my arms. I slowly get to my feet, throw a glare at the people who have crowded around to watch me be humiliated and stalk off.

* * *

><p>The only safe place in this school is the fire escape near the fourth floor art studio. I push the door open with my shoulder and almost automatically start crying when I enter the small stairwell on the side of the school. I've been coming here since I started going to this school, and so far have never run into anybody. I wipe my tears and take a deep breath, filling my lungs with crisp air.<p>

Every year the school gives me a stipend for textbooks and public transportation. I really hope I can salvage these books, or else I will have to spend my own money to replace them. I begin spreading my books in a line on the fire escape's ledge, in hopes the wind will dry them.

"Stupid." I lay my drenched history book on the ledge, "Rotten," I slap down my Calculus and Chemistry books, "Good for nothing, lazy,-" I place my hands on the ledge and lean over, "Damned Marauders!" I shout at the top of my lungs, enjoying the sound of my voice ringing through the air. "Damn them!" This is alarmingly fun. I inhale deeply and continue, "Damn you, Severus Snape! If you weren't such a wimp I wouldn't be in this mess!" I laugh before continuing, "Damn you, James Potter! I hope your hair falls out, you stupid excuse for a human being!" My throat hurts from all the screaming but I feel a lot better. I grin and back away from the ledge, dusting my hands off.

And that's when I hear it.  
>A cough.<p>

I whirl around and almost fall off the edge of the ledge when I see someone sitting on the descending stairs behind me. "How long have you been there!?" I screech, pointing at the intruder. I don't know how much trouble shouting curses at James Potter will get me in, but I don't want to find out. Oh god, what if he filmed it? I wouldn't be surprised.

"About two minutes before you came in. You're very loud." The guy says, not looking up from his book.

I wince. "Listen. I'm sorry. Do-" He leans forward and I get a better look at his face. My heart stops. "You...you're not Remus Lupin are you?"

He nods, "Indeed I am." He coyly flips a page.

"Oh god. Just kill me now." I groan, falling to my knees.. This is it, the end of my life. As if punching one of the richest noses in Britain wasn't bad enough, now I have been caught cursing the very owner of said nose by his best friend.

The front of my blazer is damp from the books and I can feel my eyes burning with tears _again._ This has been such a terrible day.

"Hey." I turn my head and Lupin has gotten up. I've always admired Lupin's face (from afar, of course) it's not handsome so much as it is comforting. Big green eyes, crooked nose, a mop of sandy brown hair, he always seemed to be a very kind person. But he did hang out with the Marauders which kind of negated any compassion his face hinted at. "Don't cry." He says and walks towards me, and I realize my stupid tears have leaked over. He reaches into his pocket and hands me a tissue. "It...will...be okay?" He seems to struggle to find the words and I almost laugh at how bad he is at trying to be consoling.

"Yeah whatever." I say and blow my nose in the most unladylike fashion imaginable. "The whole school hates me. I'm probably gonna get sued, or worse, _expelled._ And now my stupid textbooks are…" I trail off. I don't even want to finish that little pity-party of a sentence.

"Well…" Lupin smooths out a wrinkled page of my psychology textbook. "If it makes you feel any better. James isn't going to sue you, and I don't think he wants the school to take any action against you either."

"Really?" I sniffle.

"Yeah, I don't know about the school hating you, but James doesn't want to draw even more attention to the fact he got beat up by a girl."

"I didn't...I didn't _beat him up." _It was just a punch. And not a very good one either.

Lupin shrugs and walks towards the door. "Like I said, it'll all be fine. Next week, some girl will come in pregnant or something and everyone will forget about this." He raises his hand in farewell, "See you."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: You might've noticed, I keep changing up the description...I can't seem to get it right lol. Next chapter might finaaally have some James Lily interactions. Its taking a lot longer than I had planned to set up the plot, but alas. Please leave a review, it really makes my day :) Thanks for reading!<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

* * *

><p>Petunia hasn't spoken to me in a week. She won't ask me to pass the remote, she won't wake me up for school, she won't even <em>yell <em>at me. This is frightening on so many levels.

"Lily," my mother, being my mother, is incredibly offput by this new level of sibling fighting. Petunia and I have never been best friends, but we also have never gone so long without speaking. "have you tried talking to her?"

We are currently in our fifth day of not talking. The silence in the house is deafening. I've started having full length conversations with the cat, Mr. Norris.

"I've tried, mum." I squirt more lotion on my hands and continue lathering them on my mother's feet. I don't have many virtues but I pride myself on being a good daughter. "She won't speak to me."

"Did...did something happen at school?" My mom breaches the subject tentatively. As a rule, Petunia and I don't speak much about school at home. We could be ditching school entirely and going to the mall everyday for all my parents know.

I sigh and spread my fingers between my mother's toes, the way she likes. "Well...a lot happens at school." I really don't want to get into how me harassing my ex-best friend caused me to hit someone which subsequently led to my ostracisation by the entire school population. Sonia and Mathilda don't even talk to me in front of the others. It hurts more than I care to admit. Not that I don't understand why they're ignoring me, talking to me is almost as bad as _being _me, but it still stings.

And now my own stupid sister won't even look at me.

That's not being completely honest, when Petunia got home the day of the incident she really laid it on me, screaming about how I was compromising her entire school career, her entire _future _and how I was a sorry excuse for a sister. The worst part about it is that she isn't completely wrong.

My mom reaches over and squeezes my shoulder. "It worries me to see you two fighting like this. I hope you can work it out soon."

"I'm hoping it'll be something that will just go away on it's own, actually." I say, recalling Remus's words about how things will eventually cool down.

My mom shakes her head at me, and I move on to slathering lotion on her other foot. "You can't always avoid your problems, Lily. Sometimes its best to face things head on. Grab the bull by the horns and all that."

I bite my lip and feel a sense of dread growing in my stomach, because no matter how much I don't want to admit it, my mom is right. This problem isn't going to go away by itself.

* * *

><p>If I was an anthropologist, studying the behavior patterns of the children of the one-percent, I wouldn't need to look any further than the dining hall of Verrues de Porc Academy. Mating techniques can be observed by the way the sexes flirt on the banquet line, grouping patterns can be observed by what shared characteristics come into play in the formation of a clique. One can even learn about how the rich stay rich by looking at the illustrious group of students in the back who seem to always be trading stocks. In short, everything I hate about this school is ultra-concentrated in this one area.<p>

But I am not an anthropologist and I know enough about these people to last me a lifetime, which is why I usually avoid the dining hall at all costs. (That and the exorbitant prices that, regretfully, aren't covered by my scholarship.)

Today, however, is different. Instead of grabbing a wilting brown paper bag from my locker and eating it in the library, away from the prying eyes of gossipers and harassers, I walk straight into the mouth of the lion. When I walk into the cafeteria, I can feel a few eyes land on me. A couple of people smirk, some whisper, but for the most part, nothing drastic happens. I smell freshly made ravioli and feel my stomach clench, knowing it's not going to have any. I am not here to eat, I am here to wave my white flag of surrender and make peace with James Potter.

The dining hall is quite an impressive room. Aside from a wide and open floor plan, there are big windows that allow natural light to filter through while allowing the perfectly clipped lawns of the school to be showcased. The floors are solid wood as are the tables. There is a small army of professionally dressed chefs streaming in and out through the kitchen doors.

The dining hall also has a large second-floor loft portion as well. This portion is connected to the main area via staircase, and overlooks the rest of the cafeteria. You could call it a crow's nest of sorts, but it is more of a king's roost. I know, thanks to Mathilda who has pointed this section out to me on many occasions, that this is the exclusive eating place of the Marauders. In a sort of poetic metaphor, the loft allows them to be not only figuratively, but also literally above everyone else. This is where they have their lunch, hang out, and-as I imagine-create their diabolical schemes.

I place my foot on the first upward step and feel as though the whole cafeteria quiets behind me. I am leaving the somewhat sanctioned land of the main dining area and going into enemy territory. I convince myself I am being dramatic and slightly delusional and begin to slowly climb the steps.

Potter's messy head of black hair comes into view first, his back is towards me and it seems as though he is arm wrestling with Peter Pettigrew.

"My _god_, Peter!" He shouts as Pettigrew pounds Potter's arm against the table. "Are you trying to rip my arm off!?" I am sure he is over exaggerating to make up for the fact he lost.

The first person to notice me standing there like a specter, is Remus Lupin, who is sitting next to Pettigrew. He sits up and I shoot him a small smile. He smiles back, his eyebrows knit together, no doubt wondering what I am doing there. Sirius Black isn't there, and the other tables are also empty. I'm thankful for the minimal audience.

"Alright! Let's do it again! And this time, no cheating." Potter puts his elbow back on the table, Pettigrew doesn't respond as he is too busy looking at me quizzically.

"What are you waiting for, Peter?" Potter asks. He turns back to see what his friend's are gawking about and notices me.

He seems surprised for a second, scanning me up and down, before he smirks. "See? I told you she would come running here, didn't I?" He directs at his friends.

"You didn't say that." Pettigrew seems genuinely confused and Potter scowls.

"What do you want?" Potter turns to face me fully and I look intently at his nose. It seems perfectly fine. I let out a sigh of relief. "Hello," He snaps his finger in front of my face. "Did you just come to gawk at me? Couldn't find any hi-res photos online?"

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and slap a saccharine smile on. I begin my rehearsed speech, "Look, Potter. About what happened the other day…"

"Oh, good!" He claps his hands together and turns his chair around so he is facing me fully. "You're here to apologize." He snaps his fingers at me, "Get to it."

I am astounded for a second. How can someone be this obnoxious?

"Okay." I take a deep breath. I feel weird, standing in front of Potter, as if begging for mercy in front of a crazy king. The last shreds of dignity I have left are begging me to turn away but, for the good of everyone (particularly me), I have to go through with it. "It was wrong of me to punch you in the nose." I say quickly, eyes averted. (Yes, this is the amazing apology I rehearsed.)

His eyebrows raise, and he looks back at his friends like '_can you believe her?'_. They shrug back at him, and I can tell they are entertained. "You call that an apology?" He scoffs, "That may work in whatever circles you run in, but not in polite society. Again," He waves his hand at me, as if cueing an actor. "And this time, with _sincerity. _Maybe a little groveling."

Before I know what is happening, I am laughing. I throw my head back and guffaw. The _nerve _of this guy! I have had every insult hurled at me this past week, and up till now I had held everything in. But there is something about Potter that makes me lose all control over myself.

I finish laughing and face Potter, wiping a tear from the side of my eye. His look of incredulity is almost enough to send me laughing again. "You must be _crazy." _I almost shiver at the cold tone of my own voice. The rational part of my brain is telling me to backpedal and make amends, Potter is way more trouble than he is worth. But I know there is no going back. Potter's eyes knit together and I can tell he is confused. I can imagine him thinking, _where is the groveling?_

His face turns red, and he looks at his friends again, who seem to be holding back giggles. "Who the hell do you think you're talking to?" He asks standing up, no doubt trying to use his considerable height and athletic build to intimidate me back to my senses, but I am too far gone. I feel like I have no control over my actions as I step up to him and I look up, so I'm looking right into his face.

"I _know _I'm talking to some privileged, entitled brat who hasn't earned a dollar in his life. You think you're so great, huh?" I scoff, "Please Potter, you're full of shit and as far as I'm concerned," I poke my finger into his chest, "_You_ should be apologizing to _me." _

I take one last look at his aghast face before turning on my heel and heading back downstairs. I am met with stares, and I know my conversation with Potter hasn't go unnoticed by my peers, but I can't care less. I am on a wave of adrenaline and can't be bothered by the tattered white flag at my feet.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Oh Lily. :) This chapter was fun to write, though I know it's kind of short. Thanks to those who have reviewed and to those who haven't, I don't bite! Leave me some feedback :) Thanks for reading :) (How many smiley faces was that? lol)<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

* * *

><p>I know something is wrong the second I walk into class. My classmates are tellingly quiet and some even appear to be twiddling their thumbs. I am immediately on guard. I straighten my back and survey the room through slanted, suspicious eyes. And that's when I see it. Or, to be more accurate, <em>don't <em>see it.

My desk is gone.

I've lost my desk.

I can almost laugh at how comical that sounds. How does one _lose_ a desk? It's a piece of furniture for god's sake! It shouldn't be _able _to get misplaced. And yet, here I stand in my history classroom, wrinkled textbook in arms, staring at the blank spot in the middle row where my desk should be.

The seats in this godforsaken class are alphabetized so there's no doubt that the desk is—was—mine and that it's absence is purposefully meant for me. A couple of guys are snickering into their books, biting their lips and turning red.

You'd think after all the harassment I've faced these past couple of weeks, I'd be completely desensitized to all the juvenile bullying by now. But alas, I am not. I feel the rage building in me, and when I hear one particularly obnoxious student take a picture of me (seriously, I _hate_ smartphones) I snap into action.

"Real mature guys." I say out loud. Petunia is frowning in her seat, which because of the stupid seating chart is right next to where mine should be. I give her a questioning look and she shrugs."Where is it?" I smack my palm down on Caleb Upperton, a chubby upperclassman's desk. "Spit it out, Upperton." I figure it'll be easier to intimidate one guy then the whole class. "Where's the stupid desk?"

He snickers and looks to his buddies, who make noncommittal gestures.

"Check out the window." He giggles and I sneer. Wow, this whole ostracization is really turning me into the toughie they all think I am.

I walk over to the window, and sure enough, my desk is sitting primly in the middle of the courtyard. I take a moment to wonder at the lengths some of my classmates would go through to piss me off. I sigh and turn from the window, keeping a straight face so as not to give my tormentors any sense of victory. I wonder what I should do. All the other seats are filled so it's not like I can even steal one. I check my watch; I still have a couple of minutes before class starts, so I might as well try to haul the desk back up. Who knows, the physical exertion might help quell my murderous rage.

* * *

><p>This was a bad idea.<p>

I breathe in sharply as I bang my knee against my chair _again._ I've really been exerting myself physically these past couple of days. And my body is not liking it. I even tried to see if I could nab an empty desk from any of the surrounding classrooms, but no dice. After my (second) showdown with Potter, the harassment has gotten worse. I'm pretty sure the students are trying to run me out of school. Which is funny, because there is no way in hell my parents will ever let me drop out.

I check my watch again; class starts in three minutes, and I still have a flight of stairs to trudge up. My teacher, Mr. Binns, is an old, cranky man with wispy of white hair and zero tolerance for latecomers. If I arrive even a minute late, I will be greeted with a closed door.

"God _damn it."_ I grumble, as I reach the stair landing. One more set of stairs till I reach the right floor. My arms ache from all the heavy lifting… I really think I should join a gym.

"Need some help?" I whirl around when I hear the question, taking a fighting stance, even though I have no knowledge of martial arts. I don't want to get pushed down the stairs by some deceptive James Potter-fangirl.

"Whoa, calm down, ya little firecracker." It's not a rabid-fangirl, instead it's a young man with golden skin and a mop of curly black hair so picturesque, Shakespeare would write sonnets about it.

It's Sirius Black.

"What do you want?" I have balanced my chair precariously on my desk and am just about to pick the assemblage up again when Black puts his hand on my shoulder.

"Come on, I'm a big muscular man and you're just a tiny little girl." He grabs the desk on either side and lifts it. He wobbles up a few steps before stopping and turning back to me.

"Can you grab the chair?"

I snort and pull the chair by the legs and we start walking the steps in silence. I decide to ignore his somewhat misogynistic comment. I _really_ don't feel like lifting the desk again.

"Lily Evans," Sirius grins boyishly, "how _do_ you find yourself in such peculiar situations?" he asks, he doesn't seem to be even breaking a sweat.

I give him a side look. "How do you know my name?"

He snorts, "Who doesn't know your name by now?" He grins and says in a high-pitched, nasally voice, "'You're _full of shit, Potter.'_" He cackles, "You should know I'm getting that tattooed on my butt."

I laugh despite the flush I know is creeping up my neck, "I do not sound like that. And, you weren't even there!" I feel like I should be a lot more guarded around Black than I am, but there is something so disarming about his stupid sense of humor. "Why are you helping me anyways, I punched your best friend in the nose." I push the door that leads to the second floor open and hold it open for Black. He nods at me and wobbles through.

Black shrugs, "Maybe I'm not helping you. Maybe I'm going to lure you into an empty classroom and kill you with this desk.'"

"Ha! I would be thankful." I say, but only semi-sarcastically. "You can leave that here." We have reached the history classroom door. Just in time too, considering I can see Mr. Binns walking towards us from down the hall.

"See ya!" Black gives me a dorky two-finger salute and struts away.

* * *

><p>When my phone rings, I think I am hallucinating. Being the social pariah that I am, no one has texted me in a while. But when the ringing continues, I realize that I haven't imagined it and that there is an actual living, breathing person on the other end who wants to talk to me.<p>

"Hello?" I try not to sound too eager for conversation but truthfully after days of only having my parents to talk to, I'm thirsty for human contact.

"Hey, Lily," It's Mathilda. I stiffen.

"Mathilda." I don't know how to sound; how does one talk to an ex-friend who only just recently dropped you like a hot potato?

"Lily, gosh, Lily. Can you pick me up?" I knit my eyebrows together. She sounds like she's been crying. The same instinct that took over when I saw Severus being bullied kicks in and I sit up in bed.

"Mathilda? Whats wrong?"

"Just come get me, okay? Please? I'm at Levron's house, okay? There was a party. There is a party. Okay. I feel really shitty." I hear someone with a deep voice something in the background and Mathilda respond quickly. I am unable to decipher what either has said, but something doesn't seem right. "Okay, Lily. I'm gonna text you the address. Come through, Lily. Okay." She hangs up. Apparently, drunk-Mathilda says 'okay' a lot. I glance at the clock, it is 12 'clock at night; I realize I'm going to have to sneak out and steal my parent's car.

My phone buzzes and I see that Mathilda has texted me the address. I sigh when I see that she is, obviously, at one of the upscale neighborhoods on the other side of town. I get up and pull a hoodie over my t-shirt. I consider changing out of my flannel batman pajama pants but decide against it.

The roads are surprisingly empty for a Friday night. I enjoy the feeling of coasting down the open roads in my parents' minivan. Miley Cyrus is playing on the radio and for a second I allow myself to imagine that I am going to the party myself, instead of just rescuing a treacherous friend from one.

I park a couple of houses away from Levron's house and hike up the rest of the way. When I reach the front of the giant house, I pull my phone out. The front door is open, and drunk teenagers are streaming in and out, and I don't want to step past the front lawn. I call Mathilda and hold my phone to my ear, waiting for her to answer. The weather is chilly and I cross my arms in front of me, waiting for her to pick up.

"Mathilda? I'm outside."

"Nnnnmmhh…" Someone says on the other line.

"Shit. Mathilda, it's cold. Where are you?"

"In the back." She slurs,

"Can't you come to the front?" I really don't want to walk through the midst of drunk teenagers.

I hear her say something to someone before she replies, "Come to the back. _Please._"

I groan, knowing there is no point trying to convince her. "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." I pull my hood over my hair, as if I already didn't stick out like a sore thumb, and make my way around the house.

The side of the house is eerily dark. I can barely see in front of me, and I wonder why people this rich can't properly light their yard. I regret wearing my moccasins, as the ground is damp and I can feel the moisture through the soles. _Stupid Mathilda_. I am kind of pissed, even though the fact that I am the one she called makes me feel a bit special.

As I step into the (huge) backyard, I spot Mathilda and make my way towards her. She is sitting on a bench with a guy and is giggling at something he is saying. When I get closer I realize, to my horror, the guy is Sirius Black. She is twirling her hair and smiling brightly. I don't understand, she sounded so distraught on the phone. Where is the emergency?

"Lily! You came!" She waves her hand in the air, beckoning me over.

I grit my teeth, when Sirius turns and grins at me. He watches me with that insane smile on his face as I approach them.

"Come on, Mathilda." I grab her by the wrist and attempt to pull her to her feet, but she remains firmly sitting.

"Why don't _you_ stay!" And with a strength I didn't know she possessed she pulls me down so I am sitting next to her.

"Um…" I wonder why she's talking to me in front of so many people. Maybe she's too drunk to care. "Mathilda...I came all the way here because I thought there was some sort of emergency...but…" I glance at Sirius Black, who is _still _grinning at us.

"Oh, yeah…I wasn't feeling well but I think I'm alright now." She smiles shyly at Sirius, who waggles his eyebrows at her.

"Do you still need a ride home?" I ask, slightly exasperated. I have apparently driven all the way to the other side of town for no reason.

Mathilda nods her head and says reluctantly, "Can we leave in a little while? I'm finally having fun."

I give her an apologetic look, "It's past midnight. I have to work tomorrow." I explain, watching Mathilda's smile deflate. I run a hand through my hair and realize I am still sporting some serious bedhead. "And look at the state I'm in!" I gesture to my batman pajamas.

"You work? Where?" Sirius asks, leaning forward, apparently not hearing anything else I had said.

Mathilda jumps in before I can answer, "Oh! This rustic little bakery called Canter's Bakery, we should go there sometime." She is giggling again, placing a hand on his thigh. I roll my eyes, both at Mathilda's flirting and her tendency to call anything that isn't super high-end 'rustic_'._

"Is that so?" Sirius is still grinning at me.

"Yeah, the cupcakes are great! And Lily looks so cute in her uniform!" She gushes and I blanch. The cupcakes are absolute shit and my uniform is an abomination.

"Sirius…" someone says before I can clarify on Mathilda's statements. All three of us look up in unison and of course, as if this night didn't suck enough, it's James Potter.

"Yes! Potter, sit down! You brought the drink! Good man," He grabs a red cup from Potter's hands and offers it to me. "Here you are Lily, he brought it specially for you," Sirius winks at me.

Potter seems to notice my presence right there and his ears turn red. "What are _you_ doing here?"

I stand up, ignoring the proffered drink. I've learned it's not safe for me to be in close proximity to Potter for too long. I can't trust my judgment around him. "Just leaving." I turn to Mathilda, "Come on," Mathilda seems to have switched her drunken attentions from Sirius to Potter, as she gives him an apologetic smile and a cursory hair twirl before jumping to her feet and following me.

* * *

><p>"Move over." James says and Sirius obliges, scooting over to the side to allow room for James on the bench.<p>

"Ah, my dear, foolish friend." Sirius throws an arm over James's shoulders, which James shakes off. He can't tell if Sirius is drunk because Sirius _always _acts like this.

"Who invited her?" He asks gruffly, pointing at the redhead who is steering her friend towards the side exit.

"Luckily for you, her friend had one too many drinks and needed Evans to give her a ride." Sirius elbows James suggestively. "Aren't you a happy camper?"

"Why would that make me happy?" James snatches the red cup Evans refused from Sirius and takes a sip. "If anything, it ruined my mood."

"Oh please James. You're like obsessed with the chick. Admit it." Sirius ignores the death glare James directs at him and continues, "Fret not, my good friend! I found out where she works for you."

"I am _not_ obsessed with her. You're mental." James really doesn't know where Sirius comes up with this stuff. _Fine_, he does kind of talks about how insolent she is on a daily basis, and he even has this theory that she repeatedly confronts him to gain his attention, but this does not mean _he _is the one who is obsessed.

"If you say so," Sirius concedes, "But she is cute, don't you think. Even in those ridiculous batman pajamas." He elbows James again, who silently agrees. She _is_ kind of cute.

"You think anything with boobs is cute."

"Nonsense!" Sirius covers his mouth with his hand as if he is scandalized. "I think Peter is quite ugly, thank you very much."

James laughs and shakes his head. Poor Peter.

"Anyways, she's a tough one." Sirius continues, "That Evans."

James rubs his nose, feeling the memory of her fist. "What makes you say that?"

"Well she hasn't left school yet. Considering the way the kids have been treating her, it's kind of a surprise."

"What do you mean?" James takes another gulp of his drink, and suppresses a shiver. The weather is getting colder.

"Oh you know what I'm talking about. The kids at school are giving her a hard time. They're like older brother's protecting their younger sister's honor." He grins wolfishly, "You're the younger sister in this equation, by the way." He puts a finger to his chin, "Does that make Evans the philanderer who soiled your honor in the first place?" He giggles at his own joke.

"Well _maybe_ the older brother is trying to keep the philanderer in his place. I mean if he wants the younger sister's attention there are other ways to get it." James isn't exactly a huge fan of the bullying but it's not like it's his fault.

Sirius shakes his head, the extended metaphor appears to be too much for his drunken brain to keep up with. "You're so delusional, it's adorable." He pinches James on the cheek.

"Ouch!" James swats his hand away. "I am not delusional. This is not the first time a girl has gone to great lengths to get my attention." He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I actually feel a bit bad for her. There's no way I'll ever like her back."

Sirius laughs again, "Whatever helps you sleep at night. Does this mean you don't want to know where she works?"

James peers into his drink and says in a small voice, "I didn't say _that._"

* * *

><p>Before my alarm clock even has a chance to ring, I awaken by some alien foot kicking me repeatedly in the shin.<p>

"Ow, Mr. Norris." I grumble, flipping to the other side. My stupid cat invades my bed often to mooch off my body heat often, but he's usually not this aggressive.

"Lily." Someone whispers from next to me. That is _definitely_ not Mr. Norris. My eyes fly open and I almost scream when I see Mathilda's face inches away from mine.

"Oh my _god!"_ I jump backwards and tumble unceremoniously off the edge of the bed. I look up at her incredulously, "What are you doing here?!" I whisper/scream.

"Uh…" Mathilda sits up; wincing from what I presume is a hangover. "Yesterday...you drove me here. I think I fell asleep in the car? Yeah. But anyways." She smooths her crazy morning hair down. "Why is Petunia Evans in your room?"

Oh shit.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This chapter is a bit longer than the others, so hurray for that! I tried to put in some of James POV cuz I think its important for the story.<strong>

**I'll try to squeeze in another chapter before my semester starts up again next week. Cuz who knows when the update after that will be lol. But the more you review the more motivated I get :D So review! And thanks to everyone who has, it makes me happyyyyyyy.**


End file.
